Commanding in Another World
by MetallicarLove14
Summary: Comatose, Sam struggles to keep a grasp on reality, trapped inside of his own mind, while his body is slowly dying. Meanwhile, Dean races against time to find the answer, before his brother's nap, becomes the final, eternal slumber.
1. Chapter 1

"It's Dr. Whitticker, you know me," a voice spoke gently, as if he'd been through this a thousand times. Sam hadn't noticed the man until he was standing directly over him, and a few others that had managed to sneak in as well. Sam knew the face, pale and almost ghostly white, with inky black hair.

"Liar!" Sam accused, "You're lying! You're the demon that's killing those people!"

"Honestly Mr. Winchester, these delusions, nightmares, alternate realities, whatever you want to call them... They're going to kill you one day."

He could see the needle even from where he was being held down by several people onto the hard mattress, their grips so tight around his wrists and arms that he couldn't move. They'd told him it was for precaution. So he didn't hurt himself.

"NO! Don't you come near me with that thing!" Sam growled, as he strained to break free of the captors holding him in place, "_No_, you don't understand!"

The doctor wore a sympathetic smile on his face, that looked like a malicious glint to the hunter, "I do understand, Sam, I do, it will get better after a while, I promise. You'll remember soon."

He stuck the needle into Sam's strong arm and Sam could already feel the effects of the drug as his eyelids started to slip closed. Sam mumbled incoherently, fighting to stay awake, "My brother... Where's Dean?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam heard the doctor's voice echo, "Sam we've been through this. Dean is dead..."

(Two days earlier)

"Thank you for your help, Doctor," Sam said. The phone was pressed against his ear as the Impala drove steady down the highway at the hand of his brother, the radio blasting as the driver sang along.

"Yeah could you-" Sam covered the phone with his hand, "Dean, do you mind?"

_Shoot to thrill, play to kill, Too many women with too many pills..._

Sam turned in his seat a little to glare, "Turn it down, Dean, I'm trying to use the phone... Ms. Jones? Yeah directions to the hospital would be great. Yeah I can wait."

_Shoot to thrill, play to kill, I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will..._

"DEAN! Turn the music down!" Sam said in a loud whisper, a look of exasperation on his face. That look soon turned to confusion as his attention turned back to the other end of the phone, "What's that? My son? Oh. Yeah kids can be a bit restless during long car rides."

Sam looked at Dean pointedly who just shrugged and smirked. "Oh they sure do grow up fast. Although some never really do _grow up_," Sam said, and Dean got the hint and finally turned the music down with a small chuckle.

"You have it? Okay, uh yeah I've got a pen ready," Sam said as he started taking down the address on the back of his hand, "Uh huh, yes. Really ma'am it's no trouble. We'll be there first thing tomorrow morning. Thanks for your help."

Sam snapped the phone shut and with a huff turned to Dean. "I've got the address to Salem Hospital, no thanks to you," Sam said as Dean turned the volume back up so Sam now had to shout, "It's about one hundred and fifty miles from here, you wanna stop for the night or keep going?"

"We've been out of the hunt for a week now, Sammy, I think we've had enough vacation time," Dean said as the Impala picked up speed, "Let's keep on going."

"Alright," Sam complied as he leaned back in the seat and started giving directions.

A couple later found the brothers almost to their location. "There should be a motel. Um, turn right. Dude, your other right," Sam said as Dean yawned from where he sat on the driver's side and made a sharp turn to the right. They finally pulled into the Blue Horizon Motel.

"Go get us a room," Dean instructed as he handed Sam a fake credit card and without a second glance back, Sam made his way to the lobby to do so.

Dean pulled their duffel bags from the trunk, along with the research Sam had compiled over two states back. Dean glanced over it again and shook his head.

_People of all ages, genders, and medical records... Nobody knows what's causing these comas._

_Thirty five cases all in the last month..._

_So far nobody's woken back up..._

_Doctors aren't sure what to think, don't know what to test for..._

Dean wasn't sure what to make of this either. Freak medical thing or some horrible supernatural force that was trying to take over an innocent city? It could be the former, but in their line of profession, it was usually the latter.

At first Dean had been thinking a shritga, and it would have been a little ironic considering shritgas were a form of witch, and they were actually in Salem where the witch trials had occured... And Sam had so _annoyingly_ pointed out that they didn't _actually _occur there, that they occured in Danvers, which at that time had been called Salem Village, and they renamed it afterwards. Stupid Sam and his stupid college education. That aside, those freaks usually only went for children... Well except for when it had attacked Sam almost two years ago, but his little brother seemed to be a magnet for trouble, so that didn't really count. Either way, Dean was almost ruling out that idea completely, which left them with nothing.

Putting the paper under his arm, Dean hefted both bags onto his shoulder. He made a note to remind himself to beat the crap out of his brother later for signaling him the room number and then dissapearing inside, leaving him to haul everything in himself.

"How far are we from the hospital?" Dean asked as he set down his bag gently and threw Sam's over into a corner. Most of the contents spilled out on to the floor and Dean tried to hide a laugh.

Sam shot his older brother a glare and retrieved the bag, setting it into his bed. "Fifteen minutes," Sam replied as he settled down on to the bed, tired from the drive.

"Good, not a long drive, means we can sleep a little longer," Dean said, setting up his own bed and burying his face into the pillow.

"Yup," Sam said, reaching up to shut out the light, "Instead of getting up at 6:45 we can get up at 7:00!"

Sam laughed a little when he heard Dean's muffled groan.

The morning sun streemed through the windows of the Impala as Dean pulled into the closest parking space he could find.

Downing the rest of his coffee, Dean chucked it to the other side, hitting Sam in the side of the head.

"You know, you have got to be the most immature person I have ever met, Dean," Sam snapped, picking up the foam cup that had dropped into his lap and throwing it back.

Dean raised his eyebrows and grinned, "I know you are but what am I?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "My god."

"You can call me Dean."

Sam actually laughed at that and opened up the door, making his way in.

"Sam!" Dean called and the younger man looked back, barely catching the fake badge and ID set Dean tossed to him.

"So what's exactly the plan for today, Dean?" Sam asked in a hushed tone as they made their way into the hospital entrance.

"See if we can get in to see a few of the patients, talk to some of the doctors, nurses, families maybe," Dean replied, hesitant on the last suggestion. Family's of victims usually didn't like to do much talking, but it helped a lot in the long run.

Sam nodded his agreement and they turned a corner, a dark skinned receptionist with warm brown eyes asking them if she could help them.

"Yes actually we're with the CDC," Sam said, flashing her a badge and his most genuine, fake smile, distinctly using his thumb to cover most of it, "I'm Sam, this is my partner, Dean."

"Oh, I spoke to you on the phone yesterday, correct?" whom Sam now assumed with Ms. Jones asked, glancing between the two of them,

"That is correct," Dean chimed in.

"Great," Ms. Jones said with a relieved smile, emerging from behind the desk to greet them properly, shaking each of their hands, "We've been expecting you guys, the doctors don't know what to make of this, maybe you can make heads or tails of some of this."

"Well, what can you tell us for starters, Ms. Jones?" Sam asked.

"It's Karen, and all I can tell you is that this is a small town, that is rapidly getting smaller," she said, a heaviness to her voice, her face dimmed with grief, "The first one came in about a month ago. David Marien, he was fourteen. Healthy boy, played football for his highschool team. He just collapsed in the middle of the living room. His mother rushed him here, where he woke up and he started mumbling. Things about black eyes and how he was afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Sam asked, his eyebrows knit together as he and Dean shared a look.

Karen shook her head and closed her eyes slightly, "I don't know. He lapsed back into the coma shortly after and then just wasn't response at all after that. He got worse day by day."

"Worse?" Sam repeated.

Karen nodded and sighed, "One by one, all of his vital organs began failing, and then soon after shutting down. He passed away last week."

"And the others?" Dean asked, as he scribbled something on to a notepad. Sam was pretty sure that was just for show.

"The same. One by one after that they started coming in. We've had six die already," Karen said leading them down a hallway. Sam glanced down the hall to his right to see a waiting area, an old man and a woman holding hands, and another, younger man holding a small little girl in his arms.

Karen's gaze followed Sam's and she sighed, "That's Victoria Brooke's family. Her mother, father, husband and daughter. She was brought in just today. Same symptoms as all the others."

"Would you mind if we had a quick word with them?" Dean asked when Sam didn't.

"I'm not sure that's-"

"It would really help the investigation," Dean cut in again, and Sam nodded his head.

"My partner is right, we need to cover all our bases, leave no stone unturned," Sam said, flashing her his most concerned eyes, "We want to help."

Karen glanced back to the family, and then to the Winchesters, "Fine. But don't you bother them for too long, they're hurting enough as it is."

"Yes, ma'am," Both boys said in unison.

Sam and Dean turned down the hallway to the faces of the family.

"Hi, I'm Sam, this is Dean, we're with the Center for Disease Control," Sam introduced once again, "Would you mind if we asked a few questions?"

The younger man set the little girl down in the chair and stood up, crossing his arms, "What do you want to know?" His tone had a hard, angry edge to it, as if he was sick of answering questions before any had even been asked.

Sam took a deep breath and gave a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry this must be very hard for you," Sam said, "We'll make this brief. Had your wife been acting any differently lately?"

The man's pained expression wore on as he shook his head.

"Any indication that this could have been coming?" Sam prodded.

"No," he replied shortly, "She just collapsed this morning while making breakfast for our daughter. She woke on the way to the hospital, screamin,' saying that somebody was after her. Then she closed her eyes again and hasn't opened them since."

Dean frowned. "Did she say who was after her?"

The man narrowed his eyes and looked at Dean quizically, "Nobody was _after_ her. She was delusional."

Dean nodded his head, "Right, of course, I'm just covering all the bases. We'll get out of your way."

Nodding to the family, Dean and Sam turned away and headed back down the hallway.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So what do you think this is, some sort of demonic virus?" Dean asked, as he walked into the motel room, throwing the keys to the Impala onto the nightstand next to his bed.

Sam made a face as he sat down on his own bed, laptop resting on his knees, "Eh, I don't know. The doctors would have found some trace in any of the patients' blood by now if it was."

"You would think," Dean sighed, "You call Bobby?"

Sam shook his head, glancing up from his screen, "No, I'll get to it in a second."

Dean nodded, "Alright. You hungry?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, "Could you go pick something up? I wanna stay in and do a little research."

"Sure, Sammy, you want burgers, burgers, or burgers?" Dean asked, retrieving his keys.

Sam looked up again and grinned, "A burger sounds good."

"Alright I'll be back in a couple minutes, you gonna be okay?"

Sam laughed, "Unless the laptop attacks, I think I'll be fine."

Dean gave a mock bout of laughter and grabbed his cellphone, heading out and shutting the door behind him.

Sam watched him go and then shifted his eyes back to the screen. He clicked and typed endlessly, but nothing was getting him any closer to finding any sort of answer for what was terrorizing the people in this town. Sam was getting frustrated and he set the laptop aside.

He got up to cross the room and retrieve his phone. He started dialing Bobby's number when the room started spinning. Sam had to steady himself on the desk and he shook his head slightly.

Walking back over to where he'd been seated before, Sam felt the dizziness again, and a chill ran down his spine.

He turned his head, the movement sending him to the floor and out. When he came to and looked back up, he saw a man staring down at him, a small smile crossing his lips at the young hunter's confusion.

"Who're you?" Sam asked, his words coming out in short gasps.

The man's eyes turned coal black and Sam felt his body growing weaker as his eyelids started to droop and his vision started blurring.

"Sleep now, Sam," the man with the coal black eyes told him as he placed a hand to Sam's temple and everything in his world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

(Then

(("Who're you?" Sam asked, his words coming out in short gasps.

The man's eyes turned coal black and Sam felt his body growing weaker as his eyelids started to droop and his vision started blurring.

"Sleep now, Sam," the man with the coal black eyes told him as he placed a hand to Sam's temple and everything in his world went black.))

(Now)

_"Sam we've been through this. Dean is dead..."_

Sam woke up, the words echoing in his mind. Had he dreamed that whole exchange? Was he back in that ratty motel room, dirty clothes and half eaten sandwiches strung about the room?

He sat up, the dizzy feeling in his head not really going away. He was in a room, dark and ratty but certainly not the motel room he remembered. It was a hospital room. Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed squinting in confusion. This must all be really happening, but if so, how?

Feet touching the floor, Sam tested out his legs and when he knew they were fully functioning he walked towards the door giving it a hard tug. Nothing. It was locked from the outside and Sam was pretty sure that it wasn't going to give. It was one of those steel doors that only opened with voice activation, a lock of hair, and maybe even a toenail.

Sam was frustrated enough, but the silence was what was really getting on his nerves. Usually, he craved the silence, over Dean's incessant chattering and the obnoxiously loud music blaring in a space too small to think. But this was just downright creepy.

All that he needed to do was think, wrap his mind around what was going on, what could be happening... But in order to do that he needed to actually remember something. He remembered what they'd done to him earlier, held him down while they drugged him with something. That was pretty effective seeing as he felt as if he'd been asleep for a month.

They'd said something about delusions... alternate realities? No Dean? That couldn't be right, Sam had to have heard wrong. Or that demon was screwing with his head. It had to be the doctor, that's all Sam could think. Why else would he have had such a strong sense of, "hey that guy's evil, grab the holy water and let's send him to hell" when he saw him.

That was his story and he was sticking with it, the demon had done this to him, and wherever he was, finding and killing the demon was the key to getting away... That is if he ever managed to get the door unlocked.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a click and a small buzzing sound and he looked up. A pretty nurse entered the room, dark hair falling in ringlets around her shoulders. She smiled at him warily, her dark skin crinkling around her eyes.

"Karen?" Sam asked, remembering the face from the hospital he'd visisted earlier... whatever day that had been.

"Hello Mr. Winchester, I see you're feeling a little more aware today?" she said, her voice sounding cheerful, yet Sam could sense an underlying fear there as well, "Yesterday you didn't remember who I was."

Sam opened his mouth and furrowed his eyebrows. Karen had left the door open slightly and Sam knew that this was his chance if he played along long enough.

He put on his best confused and lost look and hesitated a second, "Where am I, Karen?"

"Greenview County Asylum, Sam, same as yesterday," she replied patiently, and while her back was turned as she tended to the sheets on the bed, Sam took a couple small steps towards the door.

The word asylum buzzed around in his head. So he was oficially insane. Well, he'd been called worse. It wasn't as if any of this was real... at least he didn't think so.

"And... where's my brother?"

Karen smiled and looked over to him, and Sam stopped his advancement, pretending to be entirely too interested in the tiling on the ceiling. "Sam... Dean is gone," she said, "You know that, too."

Sam nodded, "Oh, right... How?"

Karen opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again. "Not today, Sam," she replied, "We're not gonna do this today."

She turned back to the bed, smoothing down the sheets and Sam took a couple more quiet steps towards the door. He found it odd, Karen's blunt refusal to answer the question, but he didn't speak anymore as Karen was almost finished. He knew that if he was going to make a break for it, that now was his chance.

He made a beeline towards the door, cutting his arm along the metal frame in his haste and ran. He didn't know exactly where he was running to, but at this point a door that led to outside was good enough for him. He would even settle for a door that led to a parking garage... or his own demention, that would be nice.

All at once, an alarm sounded, he heard locks clicking into place and a hoard of men in hospital staff suits came rushing towards him. That was something he hadn't quite been counting on but he could work with it. He was a hunter, raised and trained by a U.S. marine and he was fast. His long legs which used to be a hindrace when he was always tripping all over them, were now beneficial that he'd gotten used to them over the past ten years.

If he could just keep running, towards the door that he now saw, he'd be okay. It was like a great beacon and his legs refused to stop moving, even as the rest of him was tiring.

_Just a litte further,_ Sam coaxed himself, picking up speed, _You're almost there. Come on._

And then all at once his beacon faded, now it was more like a dull lightbulb in need of a changing. A man stepped out, the same man who'd injected him with that shot before blocked his path, and Sam's momentum sent him barreling into the man, effectively stopping him in his course towards freedom.

The others used those precious seconds to catch up and all of them grabbed a hold of him at once. Sam struggled to break free of their grips, jabbing one of them with his elbow in the tender flesh of his stomach.

The man doubled over in pain, clutching the now bruised area and Sam used that free fist to catch the one holding his left arm in the jaw, following up with another, and a swift kick to the one he'd elbowed before, as he'd begun to recover. The man stumbled back and another came and grabbed him from behind, pulling both of his arms back behind him. Sam used that to his advantage, swinging both legs up and kicking Demonic Doctor, as he so fondly called him, square in the chest, knocking the man away from him.

He used his honed strength to wrench free of the man holding him, when all at once he felt a sharp prick in the side of his neck.

A realization set in and he growled, a slightly more childish side of him wanting to scream, "Cheaters!"

His energy started to drain almost immediately, and he slumped to the floor, one man grabbing him by his right arm and the other by his left.

The doctor was picking himself up off the floor and Sam watched it all happen through muddled hearing and blurred vision. Dr. Whitticker, no, Demonic Doctor walked towards him, kneeling down to Sam's level, as he was slumped over in the arms of the two men holding him up.

"Come on Sam, I think that's enough excitement for one day," he said, and Sam looked at him square in the eyes as both of them flickered coal black and his soft smile was replaced with a self satisfied smirk. Just as quickly as it happened though, it was gone, and one who didn't know any better would say that it had been a trick of the drugs. "Let's get you back to your room," he said gently.

But Sam knew better, and all he could think as he slumped, once again back into unconsciousness was, _So close._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The smell of hot, hopefully fresh, and greasy fastfood hung heavy in the air as the Impala pulled back into the motel parking lot with one last final rumble. He grabbed the bag that was currently occupying Sam's usual seat and made his way back to their room.

As soon as he unlocked the door and the room was compeltely silent, his instincts kicked in and he knew there was something wrong. There should have been the sound of breathing, or Sam clicking away at his laptop, or the shower, or _something._ But it was deadly silent.

That's when Dean saw the still form of his brother on the floor inbetween the bed and the desk. Dropping the forgotten bag of fastfood, Dean rushed over and kneeled down to the floor to see if his brother was breathing. He was, that was a good sign and Dean hit him a few times on the shoulder, trying to wake him.

"Sam? Sammy come on, wake up," Dean said, trying to keep his voice from sounding panicked, "Come on dude, the floor is no place for a nap... Sam?"

Dean took to shaking him, knowing that it probably wasn't the smartest move if Sam was injured in any way, but he was starting to run out of ideas when Sam remained unresponsive.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, hoping for some kind of response, "SAM!"

That's when Dean grabbed the nearest cell phone, he didn't know whether it was his or Sam's, and called 911. They were wanted by the police for murder, credit card fraud, and anything else that you could possibly think of. The hospital was bound to be crawling with cops, especially with all of the mysterious coma victims... and that's when Dean resolved himself to the fact that the same thing must be happening to Sam. Sam had turned into another nameless coma victim. And that's when the panic oficially set in. The usual Winchester policy as of late? No hospitals. Period. But this was an emergency, Sam wasn't moving, wasn't responding, wasn't _waking up._

Dean had lost everybody he'd ever had... yes _everybody_, at least at one point or another. He'd traded his soul to hang on to his last remaining family member. But now if something happened, well, he had nothing left to trade.

_Well that's it for now, hope you enjoyed it, and if you read please review! Constructive criticism would be appreciated )_


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry that there was a bit of a wait on this chapter, things got a bit busy and I haven't had much writing time. Stick with me, new chapters should start coming out sooner and sooner, just don't give up on me, kay?

((Then: "Come on Sam, I think that's enough excitement for one day," he said, and Sam looked at him square in the eyes as both of them flickered coal black and his soft smile was replaced with a self satisfied smirk. Just as quickly as it happened though, it was gone, and one who didn't know any better would say that it had been a trick of the drugs. "Let's get you back to your room," he said gently.

But Sam knew better, and all he could think as he slumped, once again back into unconsciousness was, _So close._

_xxxx_

The usual Winchester policy as of late? No hospitals. Period. But this was an emergency, Sam wasn't moving, wasn't responding, wasn't _waking up._

Dean had lost everybody he'd ever had... yes _everybody_, at least at one point or another. He'd traded his soul to hang on to his last remaining family member. But now if something happened, well, he had nothing left to trade.))

((NOW:))

There was a light streaming through the windows. The light was impaired a bit, seeing as there were bars over them. The familiar scene, Sam was beginning to become accustomed to, but he was getting sick of waking up in that hospital, hoping beyond hope that this had all been some sort of nightmare.

The distinct buzz of the door opening alerted Sam to the presence of another person. It was Karen again, and this time, she had a couple of men with her.

"If you've come to stick me with that needle again, you might wanna be careful or I might become immune," Sam snarked, his usual defense mechanism surfacing: When all else fails, act like Dean.

"Sam?" came her melodic voice, unaffected by Sam's mood, as she and the men she brought stepped into the room, "You have a visitor. Are you up for that?"

Sam frowned and sat up even more, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. At this action, the two men stepped forward as if feeling threatened, and Sam cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. He turned his attention back to Karen. "A visitor?" he repeated, "Who is it?"

"It's your mother and father," she replied, "They're here to see you."

Sam was taken aback at the news. His mother and father were alive but Dean wasn't? How screwed up was this alternate reality? "Yes, yeah, I want to see them," he replied.

The men came forward and without warning cuffed his hands behind his back and began leading him down the hall. Sam looked to each of them with a glare. Weren't cuffs a little... overboard for some loony in the bin? Sam contimplated this as he shook at the cuffs a little but knew that if he had any chance of actually staying awake today, making it through the whole day, that he'd have to behave. He felt like a puppy in obedience school.

He was led into a room, much like the one he stayed in, white painted walls that began to hurt your eyes if you looked at them for too long and a solitary window on the far wall. In the center of the room though, was his mom and dad sitting at a table, holding hands.

His mom was beautiful, exactly how he'd remembered from pictures. The only thing that was missing was that smile she wore in the pictures Sam had seen. Now Mary's eyes stayed on the floor, while John looked up at him as if it were the first time he'd ever seen him.

In a sense, it kind of was.

Sam was placed into the chair directly across from them. He looked up at his escorts expectantly, shaking the handcuffs a little bit as if to say he wanted them off. "You mind?" he asked shortly.

All he got was a slight shake of the head and Sam rolled his eyes angrily, before directing them towards his parents. The men who'd led him here left and Sam heard the door lock into place behind them.

The three sat in silence for a while as Sam looked down at his hands, the table, the walls, anywhere but his parents eyes. John was the first to break the silence.

"It's been a while, son," John commented, his voice sounding nothing like the firm, hard, John Winchester Sam remembered. There was also something different about the man sitting before him. Foreign, almost cold, Sam didn't recognize him.

Sam looked up and gave a humorless laugh, "You have no idea."

John looked a bit confused, and Mary finally looked up and into Sam's eyes. Sam swallowed and tried everything to look into hers as well. It was hard though, because there was such a deep pain in them that it hurt him to see it.

"We've missed you, Sammy," came Mary's soft voice as John placed his other hand over his wife's.

Sam glanced down towards the floor again and shook his head with another hollow laugh. "I don't even know you," he said, frowning.

Mary looked slightly startled at the admission and Sam's face set into a stony glare. "You don't know me, either," Sam said, leaning forward, clasping his cuffed hands together on the table, "You're dead. And you-" he said looking to John, "Are in hell."

Both of them looked shocked this time, and Sam watched as a tear slid down Mary's face. Something inside of him snapped and he stood up from the table, turning away, trying desperately to stow the anger that was boiling inside of him.

"Sammy, no, we aren't dead, your mind created that," John said, patiently, "But I'm alive. I'm here."

Subconsciously, Sam's mind was drawing up memories, from a time where John had actually been with him. And with Dean. He remembered his father's exact words, how they had cut him deep. Those words held truth. This man's words meant nothing, this man, who certainly was not his father, was the liar.

_"I want to stop losing people we love..."_

"No," Sam replied, empty, void of emotion, "The demon killed you. I found you on the hospital floor after you made the deal with the demon, I remember."

"There's no such thing. You don't hunt monsters, you never did, you were in school, Sam, for almost a year before it happened."

_"I want you to go to school..."_

"Before what happened?" Sam demanded, "What about Dean? What about my brother what happened to him?"

"Dean is dead," Mary whispered.

_"I want Dean to have a home."_

"Dean is not dead!" Sam yelled, suddenly turning around, his eyes burning with unrelenting anger, "You are, you're dead!"

Another tear slipped down Mary's cheek and she shook her head.

_"I want Mary alive..."_

John pulled his wife into a protective hug, seeing the wild look on his son's face, "If you would let go, Sammy, let go of these fantasies that you're hiding behind this could all be over." John stood up, crossing the room to place a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam tensed another the foreign touch, as if John hadn't been doing the same thing Sam's entire life. But this was different. This wasn't John.

_"I just want this to be over."_

"Just let go," John said again, his hand squeezing Sam's shoulder, and suddenly it felt a little more familiar. But this couldn't be, wasn't John. Or was it?

"We don't blame you," Mary added, and Sam looked at her confused, "For your brother's death."

AN: Cue dramatic music now!! Okay, so I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was a bit short compared to the others, I know, but I want the pace of the story to match up with the chapters so bear with it and like I said, chapters should be coming out sooner and sooner.

I hope you enjoyed!!

MetallicarLove14


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